


Only A Day Away

by eerian_sadow



Series: hurt-comfort bingo [11]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Community: hc_bingo, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Noble AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-01-10 07:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12294198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: Prowl is the youngest son of the Lord of Praxus, and his sire has decided that it's time he became part of another household.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For my hurt/comfort bingo card, filling my forced marriage square.

“My Lord?” Prowl stepped into his sire’s study and bowed deeply, hiding his distaste--again--for the fact that the mech only acknowledged he was the black and white mech's creator when it made him look good. “You wanted to see me?”

“I did. You may approach.” Lord Strikefast beckoned him closer. Once Prowl was standing in front of his desk, the Lord of Praxus held out a data pad. “I have secured a bonding contract for you. It is a good match, and will give us both a great deal of prestige. You will leave for Iacon tomorrow.”

“Iacon?” Prowl nearly dropped the pad in shock. Iacon was half a world away, separated from Praxus by both hostile territories and poorly explored wilderness. He would be all but unreachable to his brothers and friends. Quickly, he covered his surprise as much as he could with a question. “What family?”

“Nobilis. They claim to be descended directly from Prima.” His sire shrugged dismissively. “The details are on the pad. Your transport leaves at dawn. Pack what you must and one of your brothers will bring the rest of your things within a few days.”

“At dawn, my Lord?” The younger Praxian did his best not to frown or shout. His brothers would not return from Vos until the evening. “Am I not to be allowed to say goodbye to my brothers, then?”

“No, you ungrateful mongrel. You will not be allowed to say goodbye to _my heirs_ before you depart. Consider yourself fortunate that I allowed you to claim their kinship for so long.”

Prowl felt his wings droop from their normally rigid position. He had always known he was fortunate to be allowed contact and kinship with his brothers, despite his carrier’s status as a house servant, and being denied even the chance to say goodbye hurt him more than he had imagined it would. “I see. Will there be anything else or may I be dismissed to pack my things?”

“You are dismissed, and I will be well rid of you.”

If Prowl had ever harbored any illusions that his sire even liked him, the words would have stung as much as being sent away without his brothers’ knowledge. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

“Prowl, sir? Are you all right?” His attendant asked quietly as he dropped into the chair at his desk.

“No, Silverstar. I am not all right.” The black and white mech reached for his stationary and an ink stylus. Electronic communication was not secure enough to use to warn his brothers what was happening to him. “I am to be bonded to Sentinel Prime of Iacon, whether I wish it or not, and I am being forced to leave here with only what I can hold in a few bags and my subspace. I highly doubt my brothers know what is happening, as I am being sent away in the morning before they return from Vos.”

“Oh, sir.” the young mech’s vocalizer hitched. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Pack for me?” Prowl put his stylus to the paper and began writing quickly. “I will need the things I use every day, and you know them as well as I.”

“Right away, sir. How many bags has your sire allowed you?”

Prowl paused and brought up the list that had been appended to his bonding contract. “He did not say, but let us not push our luck with more than three.”

“Yes, sir!” He saw Silverstar bow from his peripheral vision and scamper away. 

Then the Praxian--soon to be Iaconian--noble focused fully on his letter to his older brother.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Safe travels, my lord.” His carrier’s sister pressed a kiss to the center of Prowl’s forehead with a sad smile. “Promise that you’ll send a letter once you’ve arrived safely in Iacon.”

“Immediately upon my arrival,” the young mech promised. “I know that Lord Strikefast will never tell you anything.”

“No, he never does. Please take care of yourself, Prowl. Your carrier would come back from the dead to have his vengeance if anything happened to you.”

“I will.” Prowl gave her a weak smile. “If I hear of a better position in Iacon, shall I tell you about it? I would like it, if we could stay close together.”

“I would, too, but don't get your hopes up too high. We both know your sire won't let me leave without a fight.” his aunt kissed his chevron again and turned him toward the waiting shuttle. “Now, the others have finished loading your things. Go show your sire how much you're really worth.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

The flight to Iacon was quiet, giving Prowl enough time to read through the etiquette file that his aunt had found for him in the library and to begin the literature pad he had purchased the day before. It felt like a lifetime of difference between the sunny morning in the marketplace where he had found it and the transport he was riding in now.

He turned off his data pad a joor out from Iacon. The adventure that had seemed like an enjoyable tale the day before couldn’t keep his attentionn nnow.

“Can I tell you about the surrounding countryside, My Lord?” The transport asked softly, startling him. The mecch had been so silent until now that Prowl had forgotten he was a living being rather than an automated ship. “Or perhaps Iacon itself? We still have quite a bit of flight time left.”

“I would like to hear about the Nobilius family, if you know anything about them,” the black and white mech replied. “I have never met them, and would like to know as much as I can before I arrive.”

“Well, I’m a common mech, so I don’t know a lot, but I can tell you a bit.” The transport turned slightly to one side, and Prowl caught a view of a sparkling silver lake in the middle of the crystal forest. “You should go camping at that lake sometime, if you enjoy being outdoors. It’s one of the most beautiful places in the region.”

“I will try to remember, but I do not know if my new position will allow for such things.”

“I understand. That’s why I wanted you to see it now.” There was a smile in the other mech’s voice. “The Nobilius family is one of the kindest of the ruling families, though. Very few people have anything negative to say about them. Sentinel Prime is the ruling Lord, and he has six offspring. The oldest is Ultra Magnus, and then there’s Optimus, Rodimus, Springer, Moonracer and Elita-1. I’ve met Elita-1 before, when she was traveling to Vos to meet the Winglord, and she was serious but very kind.”

Prowl sighed softly. The Nobilius family sounded too good to be real already, and this mech didn’t really even know them. “Do you know any of the others?”

“Only by reputation. Lord Rodimus hires my mentor to take him to the race tracks in the city of Ibex, and he never takes two jobs from someone he doesn’t like.”

“That’s good.” Prowl just hoped that it wasn’t all a very good cover for the kind of household his sire ran. “Tell me about the city, if you don’t mind. I should know _something_ about it before I get there.”

“Sure!” The shuttle mech sounded excited to talk about his home, and that helped put Prowl a bit more at ease. He tried to relax as the other mech spoke and they flew on to his new life.


	2. Chapter 2

As he reached for the first of his travel cases, Prowl caught sight of someone walking up to him. He paused, hand resting on the case containing his formal attire, as a yellow minibot stopped next to him.

Prowl did his best not to stare--he had only read about minibots and hadn’t been prepared for one of the mechs to be only half his size--as the yellow mech smiled. “This is the shuttle from Praxus, right?”

“It is.”

“Great! I’m Bumblebee, attached to the Nobilius household. What should I call you?” The yellow mech turned to the cargo hold. “Here, let me help you carry this stuff.”

“I am Lord Prowl,” the Praxian replied, nervous.

Bumblebee froze and turned to look at him slowly. “You’re the Lord?”

“I am.” 

“Please forgive my presumption.” the small mech stepped away from the transport and bowed deeply. “But, if I may be so bold, sir, where are your attendants?”

“An excellent question, Bumblebee.” A second mech--pale blue and white with red accents, and at least twice Prowl’s size--stepped through the doorway that led into the shuttle station. “Where _are_ your attendants, Lord Prowl?”

“Lord Ultra Magnus,” Bumblebee said softly, the way Silverstar had when he needed to know something but couldn’t look foolish for not knowing before hand. Prowl was grateful, for both the courtesy and the similarity. “May I finish retrieving Lord Prowl’s belongings?”

“You may.” The large mech nodded, then ignored the minibot completely as he focused on the Praxian. “You are the mechanism who has signed the bonding contract with Sentinel Prime?”

Prowl resisted the sudden urge to fidget under the scrutiny. “My sire accepted on my behalf, my lord.”

“And you were allowed to travel without attendants or a chaperone?”

“No, sir.” The black and white mech fought to keep his wings in their upright, confident position. “I was not allowed to travel _with_ them. Lord Strikefast required my attendants to remain with his household.” 

“Required your attendants…” Ultra Magnus snapped his mouth closed sharply and cycled his vents several times. “I see. A suitable replacement will be found for you as quickly as possible.”

“I volunteer!” Bumblebee said, lifting the last of Prowl’s cases--the largest, filled completely with his personal library--onto an anti-gravity sled. “I’m too short to be useful as anything but a page for Optimus most of the time, anyway. This is everything, if you’re ready to head out, my lord.”

“We will depart,” Ultra Magnus replied. “All of Iacon need not hear what we need to discuss.”

“Thank you, sir,” Prowl replied meekly, following quickly as the big mech turned back to the station.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Wait here.” Ultra Magnus gestured to a small alcove with a padded bench. “Lord Sentinel has been negotiating a treaty and may not yet be free to receive you.”

“Of course.” Prowl nodded. “Thank you.”

The Praxian waited for Ultra Magnus to slip through the door to the room where Sentinel Prime was working before making his way to the bench. He sank down on it heavily, letting himself feel the full measure of shame the other mech had created with his questioning. He had always known that he was unwanted and unloved by his sire, but no one had ever left him with the idea that it made him less any other mechanism.

“Lord Prowl.” Prowl lifted his head at the other mech’s voice and tried to hide his surprise at Ultra Magnus’ quick return. His own sire would have kept either of his brothers waiting for groons, simply because he could. “My sire will see you.”

“Thank you.” He stood slowly, forcing his wings up proudly and walked to the door. Ultra Magnus closed it behind him as he stepped through, then walked with him as he approached a red mech with silver and black details who was just as large as the blue and white mech. Once he was within speaking distance, Prowl knelt down in front of the red mech.

“Lord Prowl of Praxus,” Ultra Magnus said, gesturing down at him. Then he swept his arm forward to indicate the other mech. “Lord Sentinel Prime of Iacon.”

“My Lord,” the Praxian said as steadily as he could. “I am honored.”

“I had not realized you were so young.” Sentinel Prime’s voice was deep and soothing, and Prowl thought he might be able to relax listening to it someday. “I assure you that the honor is mine. Please, rise, so that I might look you in the optics.”

Prowl stood back up, forcing himself into the most confident posture he could hold, and looked the red mech in the optics. It was difficult not to flinch away from the memories of the beatings such boldness would have earned him from the Lord of Praxus. “Thank you, My Lord, but I am not certain that you will continue to think that, once you understand my circumstances.”

He didn’t dare to cycle his vents after the words, but he knew it would be better for him if Sentinel Prime found out from Prowl that he had been sent away like the _nothing_ his sire had always claimed he was.

Sentinel frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Lord Prowl did not agree to the bonding contract himself, sire,” Ultra Magnus replied anger darkening his features. “Lord Strikefast made the decision for him, with no input from Lord Prowl at all.”

The older mech looked from Prowl to his creation and back. “Is this correct, Prowl?”

“It is, sir.” Prowl’s wings dipped as shame burned through him again despite his confession. This would likely be the moment when he was sent home in disgrace. “I was told of the arrangements less than a day ago.”

“He doesn’t even have his belongings!” Ultra Magnus injected. “His sire sent him to us a pauper!”

The Lord of Iacon looked sharply at his offspring. “Calm yourself, my child. We will right what wrongs we can, but Lord Prowl’s situation will take a delicate touch to resolve.”

“Of course, sire. I am just very upset.” The blue and white mech sighed and looked down at the floor. “Lord Prowl should not be treated like some kind of… of flotsam!”

Prowl blinked. That the Iaconian noble was upset on his behalf was not what he had gathered from the other mech’s demanding questions and short, irritated answers. He had to believe, though, because the mech had just admitted as much to his sire.

“I find it as offensive as you do, Magnus.” The older mech smiled softly at his sparkling before focusing on the Praxian again. “However that is an issue to begin dealing with tomorrow, I think. Today, let us focus on getting you settled in your rooms and filling what needs you have immediately. Unless, that is, you would prefer to return to Praxus?”

“No, I would not prefer to return to Praxus.” Prowl bowed rather than let the older mech see the confusion he knew had to be on his face. “Thank you, sir.”

“To my child’s eternal dismay, Prowl, we are not a terribly formal household,” Sentinel said. A moment later, a pair of silver feet appeared in front of Prowl’s optics and a large hand fell on his shoulder. “You need not bow to me, or to any mech here.”

“I will do my best to adapt, sir.” Prowl straightened slowly. 

“Good.” Sentinel smiled at him. “I took the liberty of preparing a suite with a view of the garden for you, if you would like to retire for the day.”

“Thank you, sir. That sounds lovely.” Prowl was relieved that he would not have to explain _everything_ again before he had gathered his thoughts. “I enjoy gardens a great deal.”

“Excellent. Magnus, step into the hall and summon one of your siblings to escort Prowl to his chambers. I require your input on this treaty.”

“Yes, sire.” Ultra Magnus bowed and stepped back into the hall. 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Prowl had been escorted to his suite by a pale green femme who had introduced herself as Moonracer. She had spoken animatedly during the walk, describing the history of the manor, introducing him to various servants as they passed and asking him as many questions about himself as she could think of. It was more than a bit overwhelming, and he almost wished for Ultra Magnus and his stern glares.

Moonracer had hugged him when she left, promised that she or one of her brothers would come get him for dinner and then left him standing outside the mosaic-covered doors to his rooms.

He was still standing outside the doors, frozen with surprise and confusion several joors later when Bumblebee approached. 

“Lord Prowl, sir? Are you all right?”

Prowl turned to look at the minibot slowly, suddenly swamped with exhaustion. “I am tired, Bumblebee.”

“Well, it's been a long day for you, already.” the smaller mech ducked around the Praxian quickly and reached for the door handle. “Optimus said that it's fine if I help you get settled in, so I've been putting away your things and ordering a few new things that I think will suit your taste better than what we decorated with before. Come on, I'll show you, and then you can take a nap.”

“Thank you.” despite his fatigue, Prowl managed a small smile for the yellow mech.

Bumblebee pulled the door open and stepped inside. Prowl followed a moment later, and forced himself not to freeze in shock when he realized his chambers were as large and well appointed as the rooms his brothers occupied in Praxus.

“You have a sitting room here, then there's an empty room on the right that I thought you'd like to put your library in, your berthroom in the back and then a wash room to the left of the berthroom that you'll share with Lord Rodimus when he's here.” The minibot gestured as he described each location. “There's not enough plumbing in this wing for private baths right now, but if you really need your own--”

“It is fine,” Prowl interrupted. “This is already more than I had hoped for.”

“Yeah, sure.” Bumblebee gave him a weak smile. “Just remember that you're part of the family now and Lord Sentinel really will change things if need it.”

“Thank you, Bumblebee.” The Praxian took in the sitting room, its elegant tapestries, and beautiful and functional furniture, and did his best to suppress his shock. “This is already much more than I had hoped for.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, everyone! The end of the chapter fought me harder than I thought it would.

Prowl woke with a start at the sound of a soft knock on the door. He didn't remember falling into recharge while gazing out the window at the garden, but obviously he had. Bumblebee had even draped a thin blanket over his sensory wings and around his shoulders to ward off the chill seeping into the room as the sun set.

After a few moments, Prowl heard voices in the sitting room. He had at least one guest, and it was likely that they were another of Sentinel Prime’s offspring either fetching him for the previously promised dinner or wanting to meet the mech who had signed the bonding contract with their sire.

Either way, he would be rude not to go out and meet them, even if he was still as exhausted now as he has been before his nap.

Still, he took a moment to fold the blanket and drape it over the back of the sofa he had dragged in front of the window earlier before going out to meet his guest. He needed a few moments to collect his thoughts and finish his boot cycle before he could face another mechanism. Once the blanket was settled he moved toward the door of the berthroom and opened it.

It was better to face whatever was coming next _now_ than to give himself time to worry.

“I did not intend to wake you, Lord Prowl.” The voice that spoke was unfamiliar, and belonged to a tall red and blue mechanism who looked enough like Sentinel Prime and Ultra Magnus to be easily identified as another of the Lord’s offspring. The mech gave him a half bow, the sort one noble would give another of equal rank. Prowl wasn't certain he had ever been acknowledged that way before. “Bumblebee said that you were recharging and I was content to let you rest as you needed. My family can be overwhelming, especially when Rodimus and Moonracer are both home.”

Prowl returned the other mech’s bow. “I do not recharge deeply, unfortunately, though I appreciate your courtesy…?” 

“Forgive me.” The tall mech gave him a gentle smile. “I am Optimus, Sentinel Prime’s heir. You will meet the others at dinner tonight.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Optimus.” Prowl forced himself not to use the mech’s title or to bow, as Sentinel had encouraged. It was harder than he thought it would be. “I understood that Ultra Magnus was oldest?”

Optimus gave him another of those gentle smiles. “He is, but my brother does not have the temperament or the desire to rule Iacon and it’s people. I do, and my father says that I have a natural talent for leading. It was a logical decision.”

The praxian felt his processor catch on the unfamiliar word even as he filed the red and blue mech’s statement away. “Forgive me, but… father?”

“It is an off-world term that I learned during a diplomatic trip. Among the organics I met, it was a word used to denote a parent of the male gender. I found it fitting for Sentinel, and he has never complained.”

Prowl felt his optics widening with surprise as Optimus spoke. The heir spoke about traveling offworld almost casually, but the Praxian had read enough to know that such trips were extremely rare and extremely expensive. “You've been offworld? And met an organic species?”

“I have.” If Optimus found his reaction offensive, he gave no sign. “Iacon has many trade agreements with off worlders, both organic and mechanical. Do you not, in Praxus?”

“No. Lord Strikefast does not believe the organics are worthy trade partners. And we could not finance a trip offworld, even if my brother managed to change his mind.” The black and white mech flicked his wings dismissively. “I would honestly rather hear about your experiences than about my former home.”

For a moment, he wanted to take the admission back, but he had already told Sentinel Prime and Ultra Magnus that he had no desire to go back. 

Optimus simply nodded. “I will enjoy telling you about our allies and their homeworlds during dinner. You should get dressed, though, so that we will not be late.”

“Dressed…?” Confused, Prowl looked to Bumblebee, who had stationed himself unobtrusively by the front door.

“I put your silver cloak and the sapphire clasps out in the wash room, sir.” The minibot grinned at him. “And I borrowed a pair of matching bracers from Lord Rodimus. Will you need assistance putting them on?”

He didn't, but Prowl had a few more questions now than he had a few moments before. “Yes, Bumblebee. Your assistance would be most appreciated.”

“I’ll bring him back to you in a few joors!” The yellow mech turned his grin toward Optimus before stepping away from the door and joining the Praxian. 

“Thank you, Bumblebee.” Optimus returned the small mech's smile. 

Prowl turned and walked toward the wash room before Bumblebee could say anything else. He wanted to ask his questions, before the minibot could banter with the House’s heir any further. The small mech scrambled to keep up with his pace as he followed.

“Are you all right, sir?” Bumblebee asked once they were safely inside the washroom.

Prowl nodded as he took in the white and blue tiled room. “I simply have questions that I did not realize I had. I did not mean to imply that there was anything amiss.”

“Well, nothing new, anyway.” The minibot reached for the cloak laid out on a low-slung stone bench. “What can I tell you about?”

“How formal will dinner be?” 

“Tonight, probably not very since it's just family. Arms.” Bumblebee gestured for Powl to lift his arms and began clasping a polished silver bracer around his left. “Tomorrow, it will be more formal because the Nebulan trade contingent will be here. And we’ll need to go into town and get you something nicer than what you brought, because what Lord Strikefast let you bring won't be nearly as nice as what everyone else will be wearing. How do they feel?”

The Praxian turned his arms when Bumblebee asked, testing how the bracers felt. “They will be fine. Will anyone other than the immediate family be present tonight?”

The yellow mech shook his head. “Some servants and kitchen staff, but Lord Sentinel doesn't like to dine with the court.”

“Oh.” Prowl relaxed at Bumblebee’s words. His sire had preferred to dine with at least a few members of his court the few times Prowl had been allowed to attend, and the extra scrutiny had always made him uncomfortable. “Good. Thank you, Bumblebee.”

“You're welcome. Anything else you need to know?” The minibot stepped around the noble and picked up the cloak. “Between your wings or over one shoulder?”

“Whatever you think is best.” 

“Between your wings then, so that the sapphires bring out your optics more.” He could hear the smile in the smaller mech's voice. “You okay now?”

Prowl knew he wasn't, and knew he might not be for some time. But he felt more confident thanks to the yellow mech. “For now, yes. I will likely have to rely on your knowledge again for quite a while.”

“Sure. That's the kind of stuff I'm here for.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When they stepped back into the sitting room, Optimus was draped in a crimson cloak a few shades darker than his natural coloring and wearing several bracelets on his right arm made from thin gold chains and sparkling red gems. Prowl blinked at the adornments; they were simple enough to blend into the market outside the Crystal Garden on any day.

“The jewelry was a gift from the Nebulon trading contingent last season.” Optimus smiled as he followed Prowl’s gaze. “I admired Lady Koraja’s bracelets several times when we met, and she had them commissioned for me. I like how simple the design is, especially when contrasted with what some of the others wear.”

“I prefer simple ornamentation as well.” The black and white mech returned the tall mech's smile. 

“Sometimes it is more effective that all the wing chimes in Vos.” The red and blue mech chuckled before extending a hand to Prowl. “Shall we be on our way? It is usually safer to be seated before Rodimus.”

“Safer?”

“He is notorious for… making spectacular entrances.”

Prowl took the other mech’s hand and have him a questioning loom. “How so?”

Optimus settled the Praxian’s hand on his arm and turned him toward the door. “Three solar cycles ago, he entered the dining room via jetpack and spent half of the meal flying in circles around the room.”

“That's absurd!” Prowl couldn't even imagine either of his brothers doing such a thing.

“Rodimus is frequently absurd. I believe that he is trying to offset Ultra Magnus’ seriousness.”

“That seems probable, if he is always so.stern.”

Optimus laughed. “Sometimes he is worse.” 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Half of the seats at the table were filled when optimus escorted prowl into the dining room. The Praxian recognized Moonracer, but the other members of the family were a mystery.

“Lord Prowl of Praxus, my siblings.” Optimus gestured to the pink femme sitting closest to the door. “This is Elita-1. Next to her is Springer. Across from him is Rodimus. And I believe you know Moonracer.”

“I am pleased to meet you all,” Prowl said softly, all of his nervousness returning despite Optimus’ calm presence at his side. “And to see you again, Moonracer.”

“I hope you're settling in all right,” Moonracer replied. “I know it's hard to come into a whole big family like this without getting to know everyone first.”

Prowl was curious about the femme’s phrasing, though he wouldn't be tactless enough to ask _how_ she knew about joining such a large household. “I am doing as well as can be expected right now. The servant that Optimus has loaned me has been very helpful in that regard.”

“Bumblebee enjoys making others feel welcome.” Optimus smiled, and then gestured toward the head of the table. “Tonight, I would like you to take my seat, so that you may speak with father. The two of you should get to know each other better, if you are still willing to abide by the bonding contract.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Rodimus sat upright in his chair and stared at his older brother. “What do you mean “if ”? I thought this was a done deal.”

“There are circumstances that we were not aware of.” Sentinel Prime prevented any other reply as he entered the room, with Ultra Magnus close behind. “Prowl and I will have many things to discuss in regards to our contract. That will wait until after dinner, however.”

“Dinner is family time,” Moonracer and Elita-1 said in unison.

“Precisely.” The red mech smiled, Rodimus rolled his optics and Prowl felt like he had missed some sort of family joke. He didn't have time to dwell on how it underscored that be had never been able to have that sort of family relationship, though, as Sentinel rested a hand on his shoulder. “I would enjoy your company at dinner this evening, if you are amiable.”

The Praxian nodded. It didn't matter where he sat; he would be surrounded by strangers with too many questions no matter what. “That is fine.”

“Excellent.” Sentinel Prime beamed at him, and Prowl relaxed a fraction at the reaction. Agreeing to sit with the Lord was clearly the correct action.

He hoped he could make it through the meal without any missteps.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Prowl was enjoying a moment of banter with Springer, friendly and playful the way he and Streetstar would have been, when the staff began bringing out the final course of dinner. He froze and fell silent as a smell he had all but forgotten reached his olfactory sensors.

His spark clenched in pain and longing as the smell of warm pastries brought back memories of his carrier and happy nights by the oven.

“Prowl, are you all right?”

The Praxian shook himself out of his daze at Sentinel's worried tone. He wasn't all right, but this was not the time to break down. “I would prefer not to discuss it.”

“If it was something I said...” Springer added, worry coloring his voice as well.

“It was not. I will be fine.” Neither mech looked reassured and Prowl looked down at the table, guilt bubbling up next to the unexpected grief. These mechanisms, strangers until today, had welcomed him and shown him more kindness that he could remember, and he was repaying them by making them worry about him. 

His position gave him a perfect view as the serving staff slid his dessert onto the table in front of him. Memories of his carrier surged to the front of his processor as he stared at the same pastry Confection would make whenever he visited the kitchens. 

The loss of his carrier opened like a void in his spark again, despite how long it had been since the accident. Prowl felt like he was living it again. 

Coolant tears welled up in his optics and Prowl pushed away from the table quickly. “I'm sorry. I have to go.”

He stood and fled into the hall. He ignored the questions flung at his back and ran back to the room he had been given.


	4. Chapter 4

Bumblebee found him groons later, wedged into the space between the recharge berth and the wall and weeping into one of the blankets from the berth. “Prowl? What happened?”

The Praxian shook his head and buried his face further into the blanket. He wasn't ready to talk about what happened in the dining room, and he was even less ready to talk about the flashback and the crushing grief that had accompanied it.

“It's okay if you don't want to talk, but you should come out of there.” The yellow mech said gently. “It looks awfully easy to hurt your wings in there.”

“No.” The word came out strangled with crying and he curled in on himself more tightly. He wasn't ready to face anyone, not even someone who had only been caring and thoughtful toward him.

Bumblebee sighed. “Okay. I'm going to go run a hot bath for you, then, and you can wash up when you're ready.”

Prowl nodded weakly, though he still didn't look up.

“Just leave the cloak and the bracers in the wash room and I'll take care of them in the morning. Then I'll head to bed and you can have the rest of the night to yourself.”

The black and white mech nodded again. He heard the minibot step away from him a few moments later.

He was strut weary from stress and grief, and wasn't certain he would have the energy for the bath the smaller mech was running, but he was grateful that Bumblebee was trying to help. 

He listened to the smaller mech work for several joors, the sounds of running solvent and the minibot arranging his grooming supplies soothing him enough to stop crying, before the tap turned off. Then Bumblebee walked back into the berthroom and peered into the Praxian’s hiding place again.

Prowl managed to look back up at him for a moment, before the concern on the yellow mech’s face became overwhelming. He buried his face in the blanket again before the tears could well up in his optics again.

“There's a call button on the headboard if you need me,” Bumblebee said softly. “Even if it's before dawn, I'll come if you push it. I'm going to turn in, if you haven't changed your mind.”

Prowl shook his head again. He didn't necessarily want the minibot to leave the suite, but he also wanted to be alone for the rest of the night.

“All right. I hope you have a better night, Prowl.”

The black and white mech stayed in his hiding place until he heard the main door of the suite close and lock. Then he uncurled and stood up slowly. Prowl stared at the recharge berth for several long kliks before he crawled carefully onto and then across it.

He needed to leave Rodimus’ bracers where Bumblebee could find them and return them to the red mech. Then he could curl up in the berth and bury himself in the blankets until he fell into recharge or morning, whichever happened first.

His grief and his crying fits hadn't left the Praxian with the energy for anything else. 

He made his way to the wash room and trudged over to the bench where Bumblebee had laid out his cloak before. He pulled the garment off quickly, not bothering to unfasten the clasps before tugging his cloak over his head, and then dropped it in a heap on the bench. He was more careful with Rodimus’ bracers, making sure each was completely unlatched before pulling them off and laying them on top of the cloak.

Then the black and white mech turned and stared at the elegant stone tub filled with steaming solvent for several kliks. It looked inviting, especially as his wings began to ache from being cramped against the wall.

As tired as he was, however, Prowl knew he was more likely to fall into recharge in the bath and overheat before coming back online. He walked closer to the tub and crouched down beside it, sighing softly. He wished he had possessed the energy to stop the minibot from wasting the solvent earlier, especially since he couldn't leave it for the morning in the shared wash room.

Quickly, he dipped his hands into the solvent and cupped them to lift some of the liquid to his face. He rubbed the solvent over his face quickly, wiping away the coolant tracks left behind by his crying fits. The he flipped the switch that activated the drain and stood back up.

Before he trudged back into the berthroom, Prowl picked up the towel Bumblebee had put out on the rack and dried his face. Then he made his way back to the berth and climbed wearily into it. 

He pulled the remaining blankets up so that they covered his head and nestled into the pillows. Then the black and white mech offlined his optics and waited for morning. 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sunlight was streaming through his window when he heard the soft knock on the main door to his suite. He didn't think it would have even awakened him, as exhausted as he had been, if he hadn't already been online since the sun had come up. The praxian waited a moment, listening for Bumblebee to see if the minibot would open the door. He was grateful for the minibot's quiet presence, even if he hadn’t had the energy yet to go out and speak with him.

The knock sounded a second time, and Prowl wondered if Bee had slipped out of the room when he had been concentrating on keeping his breathing even rather than thinking about his late carrier again.

Slowly, he climbed out of his berth and made his way into the other room. Bumblebee was just sitting up from the plush sofa, blinking and clearly clearing recharge from his own processor. Prowl felt a pang of guilt for a moment; the yellow mehc must have spent the night worrying over him rather than getting his own rest.

"Rest, bumblebee. I will answer it."

"S'not your job." Bumblebee rubbed his optics and scrambled off the sofa. He dashed to the door before Prowl even came around the piece of furniture and pulled it open.

Optimus was facing slightly away, as if he had been turning away to leave Prowl to his own devices. "Good morning, Bumblebee."

"Morning, Optimus. Want to come in?" The minibot looked up at the tall mech and Prowl assumed he was smiling.

"I do not wish to disturb Lord Prowl. I was merely coming to check on him." The red and blue mech shook his head, prompting Prowl to step around the sofa and into his view. Optimus brightened almost instantly, clearly pleased to see him. "Prowl, good morning. How are you feeling?"

"I am..." The Praxian paused, trying to sort his feelings out. "I am better than I was."

"I am glad to hear that. We were all afraid we had done something to upset you."

"It was nothing that you could have controlled." Prowl sighed softly. "Just an artefact of my past."

"It was obviously not "just" anything. I hope that in time, you are able to share it, so that you may begin to heal." The tal mech's expression was earnest and he seemed sincere, two things that the black and white mech wasn't entirely sure how to handle. His pain had always been disregarded or mocked, before. 

"Perhaps someday." Prowl sighed again. "Please, come in. You don't have to stand in the hall to speak with me."

"Thank you." The tall mech stepped into the room and Bumblebee closed the door behind him. "May I at least know what did upset you, so that we can minimize your exposure to it? It is our goal to help you, not hurt you further."

"Thank you, but I hope that you understand how hard that is for me to believe right now." The Praxian bit his lip at the admission. 

"I do understand, and we will have to work to earn your trust and to help you find that belief." Optimus smiled at him, and Prowl thought he might start crying again at the gentle comfort. "Now, how can we prevent a recurrence of last night?"

The praxian stepped back to the sofa and sat down, curling over his knees as he sank into the overstuffed cushions. "It was the pastry. My... my carrier was the head of the kitchen staff when I was young and pastry was his specialty. He used to make that recipe for me when I would spend the day with him at work. It was my favorite, but I haven't had one since the accident when he was killed."

"I am so sorry." Optimus sat down next to him and wrapped the smaller mech in a one-armed hug. "Losing a parent is hard, but doubly so in your situation. I still remember days where all I could do was sit in my carrier's favorite place in the garden and cry for her after she passed."

"What happened to your carrier?" Prowl regretted the words almost immediately, but the larger mech had been so open about the loss that he couldn't stop himself. Logically, he knew that Sentinel's first spouse was gone, but he hadn't realized that she had died and that Optimus and his siblings really would understand his loss. "I am sorry, that was terribly rude. You do not have to tell me."

"Time has healed the damage, for the most part." Optimus squeezed him gently. "She contracted a virus, one that was untreated too long before she finally consented to seeing a medic. Our Ratchet can do amazing things, but too much of her processing function was deleted before he could code and anti-viral program and her spark guttered when her autonomic systems stopped receiving commands. I was devastated."

Prowl nodded. He hadn't understood it as a sparkling, but he had also been devastated when his carrier died. "My carrier died in an explosion in the energon storage room. Someone had improperly stored a generator in the room and the fuel reacted with the energon badly. Anyone who opened the door would have been killed, but Confection was the first one to need supplies the next morning. The explosion is what woke me that morning, instead of him bringing me a serving of energon and coolant the way he always did. I don't... I cried that first day, but I don't know if I ever mourned him after that until last night. My sire didn't allow it."

“Your sire was wrong to deny you a chance to grieve and say goodbye.” The tall mech turned slightly so that he could hug the Praxian more tightly. “We will give you as much time as you need, and all of us will support you.”

Prowl let himself be comforted by Optimus’ embrace. The red and blue mech’s voice was soothing and his arms felt like a shelter, rather than a cage. “Thank you. I do not know if I will need more time, or if this will happen again, however.”

“Of course. We will give you whatever you need if it does, though.” Optimus looked down at him with a soft smile. “Do you feel well enough to join Ultra Magnus and I for a light meal before we begin our days? You will need energy, if Bumblebee is taking you into the city.”

“I…” The black and white mech hesitated for a moment. He desperately did not want a repeat of the previous night, and he didn't know what a light meal entailed in this household. But the other mech was right about needing fuel to provide the energy that lack of recharge had stolen from him. “I don't know.”

“It will be simple food, taken in my brother’s office. Nothing, I hope, that would trigger bad memories.” 

That did sound better than the previous night’s dinner. “Then I accept, with the understanding that I might leave abruptly again.”

Prowl bit his lip and looked away after he added his condition. Optimus had offered his support, but that didn't make Prowl comfortable with asking for it.

“Of course. I believed that was understood.” The Iaconian loosened his hug and leaned away, implying that Prowl should stand. “Bumblebee can ready things for your trip while we eat, and you can help me convince Ultra Magnus that he will not need more than a few guards to go to a meeting with one of our allies.”

Prowl stood, and wondered what he was getting himself into.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Bumblebee was waiting outside of Ultra Magnus’ office when Prowl stepped through the door. The meal had been as light as Optimus promised, primarily liquid energon and coolant, but also a few gelled treats of the kind Bluestreak would sneak him when they were younger. He had felt a brief pang when he saw them, and remembered that he was supposed to have sent letters home already, but otherwise the time had been enjoyable.

Though he had, in fact, needed to help Optimus convince Magnus that a visit to the Crystal Towers did not require a squadron of trained soldiers despite the overt threat offered by the ruling Lord. 

“How was your meal?” the minibot asked as the door closed behind him.

“It was nice enough. I enjoyed Optimus and Ultra Magnus’ company.” Prowl gave Bumblebee a smile that he hoped was convincing. He didn't want to talk about how much he missed his brothers. “I was reminded of a promise I made to my aunt when I left Praxus, though, and I would appreciate it if you helped me remember to write her a letter after we return from the city.”

“I can do that,” Bee agreed readily. “But why don't you just call? It would be a lot faster.”

The Praxian paused before replying. He wasn’t certain that the way his sire treated the household staff was normal, but he was also certain that Bumblebee was giving an amount of leeway uncommon to most servants in any household. Certainly none of the other staff members had been so open and friendly with him. “My… Lord Strikefast would not allow her to take the call if I did, assuming he took the call in the first place.”

“Oh.” The minibot shook his head. “Lord Strikefast is a real piece of work.”

Prowl resisted the urge to laugh as Bumblebee immediately clapped his hands over his mouth, embarrassed that the criticism had been said out loud. “He is. My greatest wish is for the rest of my family to be safely away from him.”

“Can’t say I blame you there. Maybe they can come for a long visit, once you’re more settled in.” The yellow mech smiled. “NOw, we should get a move on. You need formal wear before Lady Koraja arrives. And jewelry. And maybe a professional detailing. And…”

Prowl followed the minibot as he started down the hall, continuing to list the things he thought the Praxian might need before the arrival of the Nebulan trading party.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

Prowl stared at himself in the mirror that another member of the staff--a mech introduced to him as Legion, who hadn’t said a word since bumblebee brought him in--held up for him. He had never seen himself dressed in such formal wear before, and he didn’t quite know what to think.

The Praxian turned, looking over the silks draped over his shoulders in waves of black and silver across his chestplate and flowing like a cape across his back, paired with a woven silver sash wrapped so that it covered his hips. Delicate silver formal wing chains draped over his sensory panels to match the silks like the most elegant of Vosian wing chimes. Tiny crystals hanging in the chains glittered in the berthroom’s overhead lights, complementing the high shine the detailer had put on his paint and chrome. A single ruby set in a barely noticeable headpiece rested against his chevron, sparkling and drawing attention from his attire back to his face.

Prowl thought he finally understood why Lord Starscream had been so enchanted by Streetstar after the last ball.

“So, what do you think?” Bumblebee asked softly. “Did I get the chains right? I’ve never hung wing chains before.”

“Pretty,” Legion declared softly before Prowl could answer.

“Thank you, Legion.” The black and white mech smiled softly. “It looks wonderful, Bumblebee. I don’t think I have ever been so well dressed before.”

“That’s a shame, cause you’re gorgeous. Sentinel won’t be able to keep from looking at you tonight.”

Prowl felt his plating warm with embarrassment with the thought of his intended staring at him all night. “I sincerely hope he can. I don’t want… Well, obviously there will be talk; we are contracted to bond. I simply do not want to be the center of so much attention.”

“I think you’re going to have to be prepared for that tonight. Everyone is going to want to meet you.” The minibot jumped down from his stool and gestured to other servant to step away. “You can put the mirror away, Legion. We’re all done with it.”

The taller mech nodded slowly and turned away ponderously. Prowl watched, concerned when he saw deep scarring along the other mech’s back and neck. “What happened to him?”

“He used to be part of a team of fishing bots that worked along the shores of the Rust Sea. He was the only survivor when they were attacked by an alloygator family.” The minibot shook his head. “He’s a good spark, but he’s not the mech he was before. He likes to be useful though, so I ask him to help me when I can.”

“If he has no other duties, I am happy to have his assistance at any time in the future.” Prowl made sure to pitch his voice loudly enough that the Legion would have no trouble hearing him. “He was quite competent today.”

Bumblebee gave him a brilliant smile as he replied. “Thanks, Prowl.”

They were prevented from speaking further when a knock on Prowl’s door interrupted them. Bumblebee scrambled to answer it, while Prowl moved behind him at a more sedate pace. His apparel would inevitably become mussed at the party, but he didn’t want to undo all the minibot’s hard work immediately.

Bee pulled open the door and then bowed deeply. “Lord Sentinel! Good evening, sir.”

“Good evening, Bumblebee.” Sentinel’s voice rumbled comfortably into the sitting room. “I have come to escort my intended to the party. Is he prepared?”

“We just finished, my lord.” The yellow mech straightened and turned to the Praxian as Prowl stepped into the sitting room. “Lord Sentinel is here to provide escort to the party, Lordd Prowl.”

“Thank you, Bumblebee.” Prowl smiled at the minibot and then at his intended. Sentinel’s formal wear was a rich red, and more elaborate than his own, with layers upon layers of sheer material draped around his shoulders and waist and topped with gold jewelry that sparkled with any array of differently colored stones. “You look lovely, my lord.”

“And you, Prowl, are a vision.” The Prime’s face lit up in brilliant smile. “I cannot help but realize again, how very fortunate we are that you are going to be part of our household.”

“For more than my looks, I hope.” The black and white mehc felt his face warm with embarrassment again. 

“You looks are a perk,” Sentinel replied, extending a hand to the younger mech. “You are meant for great things. Shall we be off, before Lady Koraja decides that she should come looking for me?”

“Of course, Sentinel.” Prowl considered the older mech’s words as he stepped forward and took the Prime’s hand.


	5. Chapter 5

The ballroom was located in the center of the manor, which meant that Sentinel escorted Prowl through a portion of his new home that he hadn’t seen yet. Like Moonracer, the older mech pointed out interesting features and historic murals. He also talked about the ways life in the manor had changed just over his lifetime, and how pleased he was to have been able to improve the lives of everyone living in Iacon and the surrounding lands. 

Prowl was glad to listen and learn the history. Sentinel’s explanations were clear and concise, but they filled in a great deal of the history his textbooks from Praxus never would have held. The black and white mech would rather have listened to him talk about his home and its people for cycles than go to the party. 

Though he was looking forward to meeting the Nebulans, especially after the way Bumblebee had spoken about them while they were in the city.

“And here we are,” Sentinel said as they stopped in front of a large wooden door flanked by a pair of large, armed guards. “After the fire destroyed the original ballroom, my grandsire imported this wood from Nebulos. It was our family’s first offworld trading venture, and the Nebulans remain one of our strongest allies.”

“Why did he choose to import wood? Surely the cost and the upkeep were prohibitive.” Prowl studied the doors, taking in the color and the grain of the wood before looking up at the taller mech. 

“It was a two part decision.” Sentinel gestured to one of the guards, who turned to an intercom hidden behind him. “He enjoyed the textures of organic products, but few survive long on Cybertron. With the proper oils, though, this door might outlive Nebulan society.”

The Praxian nodded. “And the other reason?”

“It was an easy way to open the negotiations that Nebulos had reached out for. They are a young people, in terms of galactic presence, and were hoping to find an ally as they explored. My grandsire found their technology fascinating, and the people equally so.” The doors began to swing inward, and the red mech adjusted Prowl's hand on his arm. “We will be announced, and Lady Koraja will likely be over to meet you immediately. She is very small, so please stay mindful.”

“I will,” Prowl promised. Then he felt a wave of nervousness wash over him as they were announced.

“THE LORD SENTINEL PRIME OF IACON AND THE LORD CONSORT PROWL OF PRAXUS!”

The room fell quiet at the announcement and the Praxian could feel the optics in the room turning toward them. Prowl’s hand tightened around the red mech’s arm as he fought the urge to flee. 

“You belong here,” Sentinel assured him softly. Then the taller mech stepped through the doorway and Prowl was forced to follow or make a scene. 

Optimus greeted them with a bow just inside the door. “Father, Lord Prowl. You both look wonderful tonight.”

“Thank you, Optimus.” Sentinel returned the bow and Prowl quickly followed suit. “I see you are wearing Lady Koraja’s latest gift. I am certain she was pleased.”

Prowl looked up to study the red and blue mech’s attire at the older mech’s words. His torso was covered in a woven cloth, one that looked soft and the Praxian wanted to touch it and confirm his guess, that was dyed a deep blue. The cloth was tied around Optimus’ waist with a silver belt, set with blue stones that matched the tunic. A matching pendant hung at Optimus’ neck, the silver and blue making the tall mech’s optics seem a bit brighter. The ensemble was topped with a black cloak made from something that looked like animal fur, and Prowl wanted to touch that too, just to be sure.

Optimus was likely the most simply dressed mechanism in the room, but rather than make him look out of place, the outfit emphasized his strength.

“Lady Koraja was quite pleased,” Optimus replied with a smile. “Though she thinks she needs to commission another, now that she has seen the latest styles in Iacon.”

“I like it,” Prowl said softly, hoping he wasn't speaking out of turn.

“I agree,” Sentinel added with a smile. “Nebulan fashion suits you.”

The red and blue mech ducked his head slightly, embarrassment creeping over his features.. “Thank you. Lady Koraja said much the same, but I can never tell when she is just flirting with me.”

“I am never just flirting, Lord Optimus,” said a soft voice from close to the floor. “I always speak the truth when I compliment you.”

Prowl looked down, and then down further when he realized that he couldn't see the speaker. A very small being, an organic based on their soft dermal layer, stood on a hovering pad near Optimus’ ankle. They were wearing a vibrant orange cloth that contrasted with their green skin and the fibers on their head. An elaborate, jeweled tiara rested on top of the fibers and matching wraps covered their feet. 

"Lord Prowl," he could hear the smile in Optimus' voice as he studied the organic. "This is Lady Koraja of Nebulos. Lady Koraja, my father's intended, Lord Prowl of Praxus."

"It is a pleasure to meet the mechanism who has captured the heart of the second most handsome mech in Iacon." Lady Koraja extended a hand as Sentinel and Optimus chuckled. 

Carefully, Prowl crouched down and let the Nebulan rest her hand on one finger. He continued to study her, and realized that the fibers on her head that he had believed were a kind of fur were actually wispy fiber optics and that her natural optics were covered with some sort of cybernetic enhancement. He was both surprised and curious, though he forced himself to keep his surprise out of his voice when he replied. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Koraja. Though I reserve judgement on Sentinel's attractiveness in comparison to other mechanisms. I have not yet had time to see much of Iacon or her people."

"Oh, I joke, Lord Prowl. Optimus says it is my greatest failing." She smiled, revealing a row of dental plates that would not have looked out of place in his own mouth. "I am overly fond of both Optimus and Sentinel and enjoy teasing them. But you seem to be a bit of a diplomat, Lord Prowl."

"Lord Prowl is quite young," Sentinel interrupted. "He is diplomatic by inclination, but has not had the chance for formal training yet."

"Why Sentinel!" The Nebulan looked scandalized. "Are you stealing from the hatchery?"

Prowl didn't know what that exact phrase meant, but he had a decent idea and frowned at the implication. "I am an adult."

Lady Koraja pulled her hand away from his finger and bowed her head. "I meant no insult, Lord Prowl. Please forgive me for letting my familiarity with Optimus and Sentinel run away with me."

The frown didn't fall away from Prowl's face until Optimus crouched down next to them. "Koraja truly did not meant to offend, Prowl. She has known us since she hatched, and often treats us like her own nest mates, despite our differences. Her words were intended to be playful."

Slowly, the Praxian nodded. Streetstar would have teased Bluestreak the same way, if Blue had taken a much older lover. "There was no harm done, my lady. I must simply learn to negotiate social situations with you over time." 

"Well," the smile returned to the Nebulan's face, "Don't take too much time. I'm not as young as you, after all."

"I will do my best." Prowl gave her a small smile and Optimus laid an encouraging hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps you would be willing to start by allowing me a few personal questions?"

"I would be delighted, Lord Prowl. I promise to tell you if you have overstepped in your quest for knowledge."

"Excellent." Sentinel rested a hand between Prowl's wings briefly. "I see Lady Strika by the fountain and I must greet her. Will you be all right without me for a time?"

"I think so," Prowl replied, not entirely sure but also unwilling to jeopardize any international affairs.

"I will stay and provide Lord Prowl with an escort, father," Optimus interrupted. "And if I am called away, then I will ensure that Moonracer or Elita stay with him until your return. They know how to escape a crowd when necessary as well as I do."

"Your sisters are entirely too good at that," the red and black mech agreed. "Thank you, Optimus. I will return when I can."

"Escape?" Lady Koraja asked as Sentinel moved toward Lady Strika.

"I do not always do well in social situations," Prowl admitted softly.

"Well, I will do my best not to overwhelm you." The Nebulan tapped a section of hoverpad with one foot and the pad lifted several meters higher. "Let us mingle a bit, while you ask your questions. I am certain that my husband wants to meet you as much as I did."

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Please forgive me, I didn't mean to leave you alone for so long." Prowl looked up from the sleeping form of Lady Koraja's youngest hatchling--a being who had latched onto him unexpectedly and not let go since--and smiled at the older mech as Sentinel stepped into the quiet air of the garden. "Meeting with Lady Strika became a meeting with several other unexpected guests, including a surprise envoy from Ibex."

"Is that what the commotion was when Lady Koraja and Optimus left me here with her hatchling?"

"It was." Sentinel settled down onto the bench next to the Praxian. "I can take Zoran, if you would like. No one expects you to hatchlingsit all night."

"I don't mind," Prowl replied with a smile. "I was afraid I would break him at first, but I am enjoying his presence now. No one has ever trusted me enough to recharge in my hand before. Or to watch their offspring while they were away."

"Then I won't deprive you of the experience." The red mech smiled. "I had been hoping that you would indulge me in a dance this evening, though. I have not danced in... Well. It was before Lancer passed on to the Well."

"Lancer? Was that your previous spouse?"

"She was. She signed the bonding contract to seal a peace treaty between our lands, but we grew to love one another over time. She taught me to dance a few groons before the bonding ceremony." Sentinel's smile shifted into something that wasn't quite sadness. "You would have gotten along with her very well, if your interest in history is any guide."

"You must miss her a great deal." Prowl reached out with his free hand and touched Sentinel's arm, hoping to comfort the older mech. 

"I do." Sentinel turned his arm so that Prowl's hand slid down into his and squeezed it gently. "But not so much that I cannot move on with my life. She would not have wanted me to mourn her forever, and I would not want to."

The Praxian considered the other mech's words for several kliks. Then he gave Sentinel a sheepish smile. "I would like to dance with you, Lord Sentinel, but I do not know how." 

"Then I will teach you, Lord Prowl. And I will be happy to dance with you for as long as you like afterward."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“How was the party?” Bumblebee asked, smiling as Prowl stepped through the door to his chambers. “Did you have a good time?”

“I did,” the Praxian replied. “Though I would have left earlier if I had been able. The Kaonites were far too loud after the Nebulans retired for the night.”

“Kaonites? I didn't realize anyone from Kaon was coming.” Bumblebee slid off his chair and followed Prowl into the berthroom. “They didn't get rowdy, did they?”

“No, just noisy. I think they're attempting to create goodwill, so that they can ask Sentinel for a favor.”

“That… didn't go over well, the last time they tried. But maybe it will turn out better now, since Lord Ironhide came to power.” The yellow mech grabbed his step-stool and set it down next to the noble when prowl stopped walking. “Stay here, and I'll get the stand for the chains. Then we’ll unwind the silk and you can take a soak, if you want.”

The Praxian shook his head. “Rodimus said he needed a soak tonight. I will wait for morning.”

“All right.” Bumblebee moved to the wardrobe and retrieved the stand for Prowl’s wing chains. “So what did you think of the Nebulans?”

“They are fascinating!” Prowl smiled tiredly. “They are like us in so many ways, but different in just as many. They upgrade themselves with in-organic machines! And they hatch from eggs! And Zoran, Lady Koraja’s youngest child, thinks I am the most interesting mech they have met.”

“So you like them, then?”

“I believe so. They are already much more interesting than Lord Strikefast ever gave them credit for.” The smile fell away from the Praxian’s face. “I imagine that he never would have sent me, if he thought I would have such an experience.”

“Well, he did. And you got to meet an organic alien species while he sat around being miserable.” Bumblebee carefully began taking the chains off of Prowl's wings. “He wouldn't have enjoyed it half as much as you did.”

“Little Zoran would not have found him very interesting, either.”

“Exactly.”

Prowl turned his head enough to look at the minibot. “Thank you, Bumblebee.”

“Anytime, Prowl.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Prowl was curled comfortably in his bed, buried under the soft blankets and pillows he didn't need, when the door to his berthroom opened. He opened one optic as the sound dragged him from the lazy sleep state he had settled into after dawn.

“Prowl? Lord Sentinel wants to know if you would join him for fuel after your bath.” Bumblebee stepped into the room when he realized the Praxian was awake. “He also wanted to know if you would be interested in attending a business dinner with the Nebulans.”

“I am not certain about dinner,” Prowl replied, sighing. “But I should fuel with Sentinel. We cannot keep putting off a discussion about the bonding contract.”

“I'll let him know.” The minibot crossed the room and pulled open the curtain. “You should probably get up, though. It's almost midday.”

“Midday?!” The Praxian sat up quickly and scrambled out of bed. “Why did you not get me out of bed sooner?”

“You were resting so peacefully that I didn't want to disturb you.” Bee shrugged. “After the last several days, I thought you needed it.”

“I--” Prowl started to protest, but the meaning behind Bumblebee’s words caught up to him. He had been _exhausted_ physically and mentally from everything that had happened. “You are right. I did need the rest. However, I do not like missing so much of the day and would prefer that you do not make a habit of letting me stay in bed for so long.”

“I won't,” Bumblebee assured him. “Now, do you still want that bath? Lord Sentinel won't be expecting you for a little while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy my content, head over to my tumblr or Dreamwidth for more engagement, q&a sessions and the occasional otherwise unposted ficbit!
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/eerian-sadow  
> https://eerian-sadow.dreamwidth.org


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL. Here it is. The end of "Only A Day Away". Not actually where I thought the fic would stop, but the next bits change in tone and the narrative no longer fits neatly together. So, I'll transition from OaDA to another fic (name to be determined) to continue to develop Prowl's new life and his new relationships. Because while this fic has come to its natural end, the story is long from finished.

“Good afternoon, Prowl.” Sentinel took Prowl’s hands as they met at the door to the dining room, keeping the Praxian from giving in to his urge to bow. He squeezed them gently as he smiled at the younger mech. “Did you rest well?”

“I did, thank you.” Prowl returned the smile, relieved that the older mech hadn't found his indulgence offensive. “Did you rest well?” 

“I did, until Lady Strika requested a very early morning meeting.” Sentinel chuckled softly. “She keeps expecting to catch me off guard and successfully pressure me into agreements that are not in the interests of Iacon, but it will not work. Not after negotiating with Lord Starscream.”

“My brother’s own negotiating skills increased dramatically after his first trip to Vos,” Prowl agreed as the Prime’s guard stepped forward and opened the door for them. “Lord Starscream requires quick processing and fast assessment, among other traits.”

“That he does.” Sentinel escorted his intended into the dining room and waited for Prowl to seat himself before sitting. “Have you been to Vos yourself? I know that Praxus keeps close ties with the Winglord.”

“Twice,” Prowl replied. “After the investments Bluestreak helped me make turned enough profit to pay for the trips. My brothers go often, but Lord Strikefast never allowed me to use the family funds for… frivolous things.”

“No, I don't imagine he would.” Sentinel frowned briefly. “If you wish to travel, you may have access to as many finds as you need. If we can afford to send Optimus to Nebulos once a vorn, we can send you to Vos.”

Prowl smiled shyly. That sounded like an incredible luxury. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome.” The older mech paused as one of the serving staff stepped up to the table, carrying a tray with two glasses of coolant. “Prowl, what would you like to eat? My chef can prepare most anything you would like.”

“I don't have a preference, really. At least, not beyond something much lighter than what was at the party.” Prowl's wings fluttered anxiously. “I am unaccustomed to eating so many treats and rich fuels.”

“I should have thought, and had Spice prepare something more mild for you. I apologize, Prowl. We will do better in the future.”

“Thank you.”

“Surprise us,” Sentinel said to the serving mech. “Within the parameters of Prowl’s request, of course.”

“Yes, my lord.” the serving mech set the coolant on the table, bowed and left the room.

“Now.” The red and black picked up his coolant and stared at it thoughtfully for a moment. “I suppose that you are likely to want to talk business, now that we have a moment to ourselves.”

The Praxian nodded. “It seemed prudent, especially after the way we were introduced at the party.”

“I'm sorry if that bothered you. It never occurred to anyone to ask for your official title.”

“It did not bother me. Lord Consort _is_ my title now. And I never had one in Praxus.”

“It will not be your title if we break the bonding contract.” Sentinel’s face became very serious.

Prowl shook his head. “I do not mind bonding with you, Sentinel. Had I been consulted during the process, it is likely that I would have agreed for the political benefits. Now that I am getting to know you, I see no reason to disrupt those benefits when I know they will help my home.”

“I do not want you to do this out of duty.”

The black and white mech gave his intended a sad smile. “Sentinel, I was never going to be allowed to bond for love. Please, let me lay the foundation for an alliance with my brother.”

The older mech sighed and shook his head in defeat. “I came in this room prepared to offer you whatever protection you needed from Lord Strikefast when you told me that you really wanted someone closer to your own age or freedom to explore the world, and you surprise me again.”

Prowl let himself smile at the older mech’s statement. “I hope that I can keep doing so for many vorns.”

The Iaconian mech returned the smile. “So do I.”

“I was hoping though…” the Praxian trailed off for a moment, smile falling away from his face as worry filled his processor. “I was hoping that the ceremony could be some time in the future, so that I may learn the things I need to know in order to perform the duties expected of your consort.”

“We can put off the ceremony as long as necessary,” Sentinel agreed. “Despite Lord Strikefast’s implication, I would prefer to know you for more than a handful of days. But surely your tutors gave you instruction in…”

The red and black mech trailed off as Prowl shook his head. His wings sank low against the back of his chair as the young mech prepared to make another uncomfortable confession. “I was not educated, my Lord. I only know the things my brothers could teach me in secret or the things I could learn from the books in the library.”

For a long moment, Sentinel Prime was quiet. Then he laid both his hands flat on the the table and mumbled something under his breath. The younger mech thought he might have been counting, but he wasn't sure.

“Sentinel?”

“Forgive me, Prowl.” the older mech’s fingers drew inward, almost pulling his hand into a fist, before spreading back out onto the table. “I am furious at your sire, and trying very hard not to do anything that might trigger another flashback for you.”

“Oh.” The words were strangely touching, though Prowl didn't think anything Sentinel could do in anger would come close to matching Strikefast. “Thank you. But please, do not hurt yourself.”

Sentinel’s fingers drew inward again, then the large mech cycled his vents and visibly forced himself to relax. “You are right, of course. Anger at him is no reason to overstress my systems when he is not here. But deliberately not educating you… Prowl we imprison mechanisms in Iacon who deny their offspring such a basic right!”

“Younglings are required to learn reading, basic mathematics and basic biology in Praxus. Bluestreak made certain I could read, to help hide that i never formally studied the rest.” Prowl's embarrassment at being self-taught in most areas warred with the pride he felt at his brother having taken so much time to teach him, when he was only a few vorns older. “I was able to learn a great deal in the library, and later in the market when I could buy books.”

“I am grateful to your brother, but you should have had the best tutors and teachers available.” Sentinel’s hands finally clenched into the fists he had been fighting against. “What did that fool think would happen once he was found out?”

“I do not think he particularly cared.” Prowl tried to keep his tone mild. “He dealt with everything about me by ignoring it until he could not.”

“Idiot.” The older mech unclenched his fists and leaned back in his chair. “You will have the best tutors that I can find, in any subject that interests you. You will not be denied your education any longer.”

“Thank you.” The Praxian felt an embarrassed heat washing across his face at the knowledge of how much Sentinel was likely to spend on that many tutors, but it didn't stop the happy smile from spreading across his face. 

He was going to _learn_. And it would be more than secretly whispered lessons in the dark.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

After dinner, Prowl sat down at the table Bumblebee had set up in the side room of the suite. He would have a real desk soon, once he had a spare moment to sit down with Bee and look at furniture designs, but the table served his needs until then.

With a steady hand, he reached for a sheet of paper and his ink-filled stylus. He smiled as he touched the tip of the stylus to the paper and began writing.

_Bluestreak and Streetstar,_

_Now that I have been here for more than a few hours, I want to assure you that I am doing well in Iacon. Sentinel Prime is a good, caring mechanism and is possibly the best mech I could have been contracted to. His offspring take some getting used to, but I am certain that we will get along well once we know each other better._

_I am already having so many experiences here that I would never have been allowed in Praxus. Just last night, I met an offworld trading contingent made up of organic beings! I wish the two of you could have met them too; they are like us in so many ways. I believe both of you would like them. And I was allowed. No, encouraged to wear the most beautiful formal wing chains at the party. I felt as lovely as Streetstar looked at his coming of age party._

_Sentinel is also arranging for me to begin formal education, with private tutors in any field I wish to learn. I am so overwhelmed with choices that I do not know where to begin. The sciences, perhaps, since that was never an area where you were able share your experiences effectively. Or more advanced mathematics than you were allowed to learn, and teach me by extension. And I will learn appropriate etiquette and the duties required of the Lord Consort in Iacon, a rank I never dreamed I could hold._

_I am still nervous, but I am not afraid to misstep here. And for the first time since my carrier’s passing, I find myself looking forward to what the future holds for me._

_I miss the two of you deeply, but hope that you will be able to travel here for holidays as you have to Vos. And I, once the bonding is complete and Strikefast cannot hurt me the same way, will come and visit you as well. I wish for us to remain as close as we have been._

“Lord Prowl?” 

The Praxian looked up from his letter with a small frown as his thoughts were interrupted. “Yes, Bumblebee?”

“Please forgive the interruption, but you have a guest.”

“A guest?” Prowl turned in his chair so that he could see the minibot more clearly. 

“Yes, sir.” Bumblebee stepped to the side to reveal a very small Nebulan standing behind him.

“Hi, Prowl!” Zoran said, smiling and waving one arm happily at the black and white mech. 

“Hello, Zoran.” Prowl smiled, too, genuinely glad to see the young being who had charmed him so thoroughly the night before. “Does your mother know you are here?”

The Nebulan nodded. “She said I could come ask if you want to come play in the garden before bed. Do you?”

The Praxian considered the request for several kliks. He still had many things that he wanted to say to his brothers, but the Nebulans would only be on planet for a few days. And it might be several of the Nebulans' years before he saw the hatchling again. Zoran could be a completely different person--one who didn't like Prowl nearly as much-if he let the opportunity slip away. 

 

"I would be happy to play with you in the garden," Prowl replied. "Just give me a few kliks to finish writing to my brothers."

"Okay!" Zoran jumped into the air a few times with excitement. 

Prowl found his wings twitching upward with his own happiness as he watched the hatchling for a moment. Then he turned back to his letter.

_Bluestreak, Streetstar, please don't worry about me. Life in Iacon is good, so much better than anything I was given in Praxus. I believe that I can truly be happy here, even though I am surrounded by strangers and aliens._

_Please, take care of yourselves, and I hope that I will see you soon._

_All my love,  
Prowl_

He set his stylus down on the desk as he re-read his words quickly. Then he folded the paper and turned to Bumblebee. "Bumblebee, please have the courier deliver this to the palace in Praxus. He should ask for a mech called Silverstar."

"You got it, Prowl." Bumblebee grinned. "Have fun!"

"Thank you, I believe we will." Prowl stood up from his desk and crossed the room. Zoran extended his arms up toward and, and Prowl obliged the hatchling and picked him up carefully. He was looking forward to an evening in the garden with his young friend.


End file.
